Shaken
by Mariah94
Summary: She was staring down the barrel of a gun and she couldn't help but think that at least if he shot her head on she wouldn't feel it. It may not be pretty, but it would be painless.
1. Chapter 1

So I'll admit...this is a little out of my comfort zone. I don't normally write this way, but I decided to go with it. And I'm satisfied. Let me know what you think. And I'm sorry if language isn't your thing...it's just who they are in this story.

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><p>She was staring down the barrel of a gun and she couldn't help but think that at least if he shot her head on she wouldn't feel it. It may not be pretty, but it would be painless.<p>

Who was she thinking? As if her luck couldn't get any worse, he would probably slip up and just blow half her head off and leave her to live out the rest of her days as a vegetable. She wondered...if vegetables had no family, would they pull the plug? Was that legal? She didn't want to be a carrot.

What the hell?

She wasn't going to be a carrot.

She's Olivia fucking Benson. She's a badass, and she knows how to get out of a sweaty pedophile's grasp. Then again, she's never tried kicking a guy in the gut while he holds a gun to her head.

Yeah, maybe she had better comply for now.

"You know, my partner is going to be here any second."

"Good, he can watch as I splatter your brains all over this wall."

"He'll kill you."

"I'm going to die either way, Detective. You know that."

"If you pull the trigger, you die. If you let me go, you will only go to prison."

He pressed the Sig deeper into her temple, and she groaned from the uncomfortable pressure.

"Bad answer, detective. I don't like jail."

"We'll work something out."

"Don't fuck with me."

Fuck.

Who was she kidding? She was going to die one way or another, right? She was going to die or become a carrot.

She wasn't sure which one she preferred.

"Brent...tell me about your family."

"Why?"

"We're both going to die, right? Let's get to know each other until then."

"Fuck you."

Okay, then. We can stand here and embrace the awkward silence, for all she cares.

She shuffled her feet to regain some balance and he jammed the gun impossibly farther into her head.

"I would tell you about my family," she started, "but I don't have one."

"Liar."

"I'm serious, Brent. My mom died. I don't know who my dad is. I'm not married. I have nothing."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"If I'm going to die, I want to say my goodbyes."

"Whatever."

"All I have is my partner. Elliot. You'll meet him soon." And he'll shoot you dead, you son of a bitch.

"Can't wait."

"I want you to know, though, that Elliot has a family. He has a mother, and five kids. His wife divorced him, but they're still friends. He has a family."

"So what?"

"I'm just saying."

She wouldn't say it out loud, but she just wanted him to know in case something happened and Elliot was the one with a gun to his head, he had something to live for.

She on the other hand...

She could afford to become a vegetable.

"If you don't have a family, then who would you say your goodbyes to?"

Elliot. My partner.

"Nobody, I guess."

"That's sad."

"Tell me about it." she laughed. "I'm pathetic."

The gun relaxed a little, and for a moment, she wondered if she was getting to him.

"What about your partner?"

Let's not talk about him.

"What about him?"

"Would you say goodbye to him?"

Of course I would, you son of a bitch.

"I guess I would."

There was a moment before Brent spoke, "what would you say to him?" he asked.

Olivia thought about it. What would she say? She never really considered it. She never imagined having to say goodbye to the only person she ever really had in her life. Permanently, that is.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Well you have some time to think about it."

"Yeah, I guess I do."

The gun jammed into her head again.

Fuck, he was going to leave a nasty bruise.

* * *

><p>Elliot stood as quietly as he could outside the door with the two road officers. He was literally going to kill himself waiting, but he knew he couldn't go in until the swat team surrounded the building and gave him the okay. He had an earpiece in, and it was connected so he could hear through Olivia's speaker hidden in her shirt and the swat team as they gave commands.<p>

He knew that Brent had a gun to her head right now and it literally made him nauseous knowing that at any moment he could pull that trigger and take her away from him. But he also knew that as of now Olivia had it under control. Brent was waiting for Elliot to enter the room because he wanted him there when he -fuck he couldn't even think about it.

Brent wanted Elliot to kill him. And he was going to do just that.

_"Brent...tell me about your family."_

What the hell? What was Olivia doing? She was going to get herself killed.

God.

It took every bit of strength he had to keep himself behind the door.

_"Why?"_

_"We're both going to die, right? Let's get to know each other until then."_

_"Fuck you."_

Wrong answer. Elliot lunged forward but one of the uniforms grabbed his jacket, pulling him roughly back.

"Wait," the uniform whispered harshly.

"That's my partner in there."

"She has it under control."

"She has a gun to her head."

The uniform backed down after that statement.

_"I would tell you about my family," she started, "but I don't have one."_

_"Liar."_

You have me, Olivia. Holy hell, you have me.

_"I'm serious, Brent. My mom died. I don't know who my dad is. I'm not married. I have nothing."_

_"Why are you telling me this?"_

_"If I'm going to die, I want to say my goodbyes."_

_"Whatever."_

_"All I have is my partner. Elliot. You'll meet him soon."_

"Can't wait."

Elliot was literally shaking. He needed to see her. Needed her reassurance. She knows he's listening...and she needs to somehow tell him that's she's fine.

_"I want you to know, though, that Elliot has a family. He has a mother, and five kids. His wife divorced him, but they're still friends. He has a family."_

_"So what?"_

_"I'm just saying."_

Bloody hell. She was telling him not to come in. That it wasn't worth the risk. That she wasn't worth the risk.

She was worth everything to him. She had to know that.

_"If you don't have a family, then who would you say goodbye to?"_

Me. You would say goodbye to me.

_"Nobody, I guess."_

"Olivia, you have me -shit!" Elliot ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the confused looks of the two uniforms. They couldn't hear. They didn't know anything.

_"That's sad."_

_"Tell me about it."_

He heard her laugh.

_"I'm pathetic."_

No, you're not! What the hell, is she giving up?

_"What about your partner?"  
><em>  
>What about me, Olivia?<p>

_"What about him?"_

_"Would you say goodbye to him?"_

Of course she would, you son of a bitch.

_"I guess I would."_

"What the fu-"' Elliot nearly punched the wall. What kind of game was she playing? She guesses?

_"What would you say to him?" _

Yeah Olivia, what would you say?

_"I don't know."_

_"Well you have some time to think about it."_

_"Yeah, I guess I do."_

* * *

><p>"I would thank him for offering his kidney to me, even though I'd never actually take it."<p>

"Why wouldn't you?"

She paused. "Sometimes he thinks I'm something more than I'm not. One thing is for sure, I'm not worthy enough for his kidney."

"Wow, you really do not think much of yourself."

"Yeah, well."

She knew she was more than she led on, but nobody said she had to be honest with this prick. And she knew Elliot was listening. Brent thought she was speaking to him but she was speaking to Elliot.

"I have a daughter. She's five."

Fuck this guy. She didn't want to know about his family.

"What's her name?"

"Rose."

"Sweet name."

"Her mom picked it."

"What about her?"

"Let's not talk about her."

Okay…end of conversation.

She couldn't help but think that he could afford to relieve some of the pressure to the side of her head. And did he have to dig his nails into her arm? Who did this guy think she was?

She was cop. He was stupid.

He'd never get away with it.

"Would you give your kidney to him?"

"In a heartbeat." It wasn't a question. She didn't even think about it.

She'd give _anything _to keep him safe.

* * *

><p>Elliot painfully waited for his partners voice to come back to him. He hated not seeing her…if he could at least see her…let her eyes tell him that she's okay…<p>

_"I would thank him for offering his kidney to me, even though I'd never actually take it."_

"Yes you would." Elliot kept his voice as low as possible. He clasped his hands together in an attempt to stop the trimmers that filled his insides.

The detective refused to believe what his partner was saying. They had this conversation years ago. Not if I gave you mine first, right? They would give their kidneys to each other in a hearbeat.

_"Why wouldn't you?"  
><em>  
><em>"Sometimes he thinks I'm something more than I'm not. One thing is for sure, I'm not worthy enough for his kidney."<em>

Quit lying to yourself Olivia, you know exactly how much you mean to me. You know your worth. Right?

You know you're more than important.

_"Wow, you really do not think much of yourself."_

But I think the world of you. That's all that matters.

_"Yeah, well."_

_"I have a daughter. She's five."_

Fuck this guy. He didn't want to know about his family.

_"What's her name?"_

_"Rose."_

_"Sweet name."_

_"Her mom picked it."_

_"What about her?"_

_"Let's not talk about her."_

Thank you. Let's talk about Olivia.

"_Would you give your kidney to him?"_

"_In a heartbeat." _

That's not fair. That's just not fair. He should be able to give her his kidney, too. She wasn't being fair to him. She was giving herself up, and she was making it bluntly clear that she didn't feel she was important enough to receive anything from her.

What was wrong with her?

He'd give her anything to keep her safe.

* * *

><p>"So this partner is important to you."<p>

He's more than important.

"Yeah, I'd say he is. We've worked together nearly fourteen years."

And that's why you'll never get away with this.

"Have you fucked him?"

"That's none of your business."

This guy better shut his mouth. Elliot was listening after all.

_Shit._

Elliot was listening.

"So you have."

"No." she growled. "_No._"

Elliot was listening, and this idiot was going into uncharted territories.

"Why not? He's not married."

"That's not the problem."

Shit.

What did she just say?

"Bullshit."

"Believe what you want, Brent. But why would I lie to you now?"

"Denial."

"I'm not denying anything. I'm just being honest."

She was being honest. He just wasn't asking the right questions.

"You can't tell me that after fourteen years of working with the same guy-"

"Let's not talk about him anymore."

He's listening, Brent. He's going to kill you. Better stop talking while you can.

"-you never once even thought about letting him take you from behind-"

Olivia moved then, out of instinct her elbow made its way into his gut and for a moment he was still. She started to push him away but his arms grabbed her waist and pulled her roughly into his side. The barrel of the gun slammed into her temple and she couldn't stop the scream from falling out of her lips.

"Somebody doesn't like talking about her partner."

"He's worth more than a quick fuck, you son of a bitch."

Olivia breathed. Shit.

She couldn't think about the fact that Elliot just heard that.

Change directions.

"But you wouldn't know what that was like, now would you? You grab a girl and hold her down before you can even know their name."

"You know what," Brent leaned in, so his disgusting breath was in her ear, "maybe I'll scatter your brains before Elliot comes in to save the day."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too."

* * *

><p>"<em>So this partner is important to you."<em>

She's more than important.

"_Yeah, I'd say he is. We've worked together nearly fourteen years."_

Fifteen, but who's counting?

"_Have you fucked him?"_

Elliot straightened up. When he got his hands on this dirty son of a bitch…he would make him bleed from every pore.

_"That's none of your business."_

Damn right. You go Olivia.

_"So you have."_

"Tell your guys they have one minute or I'm going in without their call." Elliot practically spat at a uniform as he stood up, pulling his glock from his holster.

_"No." _

He heard her growl.

Was it wrong for him to nearly be turned on at the sound?

Jesus. He needed her to be okay.

"_No."_

_"Why not? He's not married."_

"_That's not the problem." _

What did she just say? What was the problem, then? Jesus. She was going to kill him.

"_Bullshit."_

"_Believe what you want, Brent. But why would I lie to you now?"_

You've been lying all along, Olivia.

You would let me give you a kidney. You know how much I need you.

"_Denial."_

"_I'm not denying anything. I'm just being honest."_

"_You can't tell me that after fourteen years of working with the same guy-"_

That's it. His hand is on the doorknob. Fuck if he lets her talk to her that way anymore.

"_Let's not talk about him anymore."_

No, keep talking about me. Give me more reasons to make you beg for your life. Give me more reasons to finally shut Olivia up and set her straight.

"_-you never once even thought about letting him take you-"_

He heard her move then. He heard an _oomf_ from the pedophile holding her and for a moment, he thought she was getting away. His hopes were diminishing though as he heard her struggling from his grasp. She let out a low scream and Elliot nearly cried out.

He needed her.

"_Somebody doesn't like talking about her partner."_

"_He's worth more than a quick fuck, you son of a bitch."_

Elliot breathed. Shit.

Did he just hear her right?

"_But you wouldn't know what that was like, now would you? You grab a girl and hold her down before you can even know their name."_

"_You know what…" _

Brent paused a second. And so did Elliot.

"_Maybe I'll scatter your brains before Elliot comes in to save the day."_

"_Fuck you."_

That was it for Elliot.

"_Fuck you too."_

He went in. Screw everything else in this world.

He needed to save her.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two. Sorry for the delay...exams. *sigh*

Don't hesitate to review. I would love some opinions. I'm winging this story as of now.

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><p>2<p>

As Detective Elliot Stabler rounded the corner, he felt his heart stop. For a moment, he lost the words because he could feel the pain that he saw in Olivia's eyes. His heart broke for her, and the hand that was pushing into her neck only squeezed tighter when Elliot cleared his throat. Brent Westly smiled at Elliot, as if greeting him. But the detective wasn't having that. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to scope out a good shot. He was about five feet from his partner, but he was holding her too close. The shot was too risky.

He'd have to negotiate.

"Liv, are you okay?"

Brent laughed at that. And internally, so did Elliot. Of course his partner wasn't okay. What a stupid question to ask. Still though, he wished she would say that she was. It would make him feel better about the situation. Something, if nothing.

"Guess your partner decided it's time grow some balls and show."

The pedophile did not seem at all phased by Elliot's appearance. To his disappointment, even the sight of his gun trained on him triggered no response. While his weapon was pointed at Brent, his attention was fully devoted to Olivia. He so badly wanted to run to her, but right now he knew any wrong move could mean...could mean...

Shit.

"Brent," Olivia started, "that's Elliot." She pointed across the room, her eyes narrowed at her partner.

Her words seemed to distract Brent, and his hand fell from her neck, but settled in the curve of her waist. Elliot took notice, of course, and let out a low growl. Fuck if this son of a bitch was going to touch her like that.

"Your partner," he responded, his voice gruff and full of knowing.

"Elliot." Olivia directed her voice toward Brent, but she only had eyes for her _him_. "Get out of here."

The detective nearly lost it there. He was trying his hardest to remain calm, to think of a game plan, but he knows what it feels like to be helpless under the pressure of a gun to your head. And he would give anything to trade places with her right now. He could see the fear in her eyes, in her posture...in the way she said his name.

He knew she had given up.

"Liv, don't do this." Elliot took a small step forward.

"Oh, so the pansy decides to talk. You should fill him in, Olivia. Tell him about our conversation earlier." As he spoke, the barrel of his Sig jammed into her temple, but Olivia wasn't concerned. It was as if she was numb from the pain of having a gun in your skull for the last hour.

She probably was.

"He knows."

Elliot's eyes moved from Olivia's and he searched for a breaking point in Brent's. He so desperately needed some sort of change from him. They've been at this for hours and he knew Olivia was getting nowhere with him. It was only a matter of time before he followed through with his threats to...

Fuck. He couldn't even think about it.

"If he knew that I was planning on killing you the second he showed, then why would he fucking show?"

"Because he's an idiot." Olivia's voice was quiet, harsh, and he could see the anger was directed towards him.

She didn't want him to come after her. She had made that very clear earlier. But he had to do something. She wasn't making any progress so he figured...maybe if he showed they could turn the tables. However, after seeing the cool, confident demeanor that Brent had as he held a loaded gun to his partners head...Elliot questioned his decision. But no matter the incident, he's here now. His partner of thirteen years stands only a few feet away. He wasn't so sure that even the two of them working together could break this guy. The breath he breathes could be her last...could be his last.

He wanted to rip the lungs out of Brent Westly so he could never breathe any air again.

"El..."

His eyes found hers again, and seeing the drops fall from her eyelids sent a chill through him. He never meant for this to happen.

"It's over Brent. You're surrounded. There's no getting away with this."

His eyes searched him for anything that could give him a clue as to what his true intentions are. Because Elliot's been standing in front of him for well over ten minutes and Brent still hasn't followed through on his threat. He knew though, that with this kind of suspect, it was only a matter of time.

Much to his disappointment, Brent simply shrugged. "I know."

The detective nearly rocked back on his heels. Normally by now, the suspect would be sweating and shaking violently. He would be itching to start a fight and explain his reasoning. Brent, however...seemed content with everything.

So he tried a different angle.

"Just let her go. She didn't do anything to you."

"Elliot don't-"

"Oh, I know," Brent started again, "In fact, Detective Benson, you have been extremely respectful throughout this entire investigation."

"Don't bring her into the problems you have with me."

"But Detective, it's the only way."

"It's not."

"You see...by killing her, I'm ultimately killing you."

Despite the raw evil behind his words, Elliot couldn't deny the irony. The son of a bitch was speaking far more truthfully than he realized.

"The only difference is I go to jail for one murder. Not two."

Elliot reacted then.

"You will bleed out on this very floor before you ever see a prison cell if you so much as _touch _her the wrong way."

Even as Elliot said it, he knew he had messed up. The fire sprang into Brent's eyes and he smiled the wicked grin that Elliot had knocked off his face just last week. He watched as Brent's right hand travelled from Olivia's waist and across her stomach. He couldn't stop the growl that escaped his lips as his hand moved farther up into uncharted territory. He could feel the tension, and the betrayal flow from Olivia as the pedophile ran his hand lazily across her breast.

Elliot's finger was lightly squeezing the trigger of his Glock as he stepped forward again. "Get your fucking hands off of my partner."

Brent immediately obliged, which only confused the detective. He eyed him suspiciously before turning his gaze to Olivia. It was as if he could read her mind. She was literally screaming at him, telling him to either go or take the fucking shot, without ever actually speaking.

"I was just proving a point, Detective Stabler." Westly cut into the silent conversation. "You're afraid to take the shot. Afraid you'll miss."

The déjà vu was to be expected, but that didn't stop the anger from boiling his insides. He closed his eyes briefly as he tried to remember to breathe. She was ridiculous if she thought he would actually...

"Liv-" he started, but she cut him off.

"Don't, El...this isn't-"

"You can't ask me to do that."

"You asked me."

He saw the confusion on Brent's face, but fuck if he owed him any explanation. He would leave him there to ponder. It didn't matter that it was seven years ago...it felt like yesterday he had told Olivia that it was okay, that she could take the shot. He couldn't ever do that to her though...

"This is different-"

"Like hell it is."

He knew she had a point, but even so...

"I can't do that, Liv." _I can't be responsible for your death._

He could see it in her eyes, though. She wanted him to...she was begging him to. He couldn't understand why she would ever expect that of him. Hell, how could he have expected her to take that shot so many years ago? He was praying for a sniper to take Westly out, but there were no windows in this room. It was a lost cause, but he could still pray that the son of a bitch drop dead from a blood clot he never got checked out.

"Wes-"

"Shhh, I'm putting the pieces together."

The detective wanted to rip this kids throat out. One thing about him that had pissed him off since he met Brent Westly was that he had no respect. This kid was barely 21, had raped six little girls, and Elliot tried to help him. It was obvious he was seriously mentally ill, but his Anti-Social Personality Disorder was so severe, he could hardly get the guy to admit he was sick -let alone get his lawyer to plea him as mentally ill rather than a sick child rapist.

From the day they found him just outside of Queens, Westly never once pleaded insanity. He openly admitted his guilt, hell he graphically spelled out every single rape.

One would ask how the hell this guy got away and how the fuck he ended up holding Olivia hostage, but the answer was really quite simple. He had a brother who decided his life was not worth living. He stepped up, claimed his brother was lying and trying to cover for him. Both Elliot and Olivia immediately knew the son of a bitch was lying through his teeth, but still they let him loose. Instead, they arrested 28 year old Jordan Westly, an insurance agent who had recently lost his wife to cancer.

It was obvious Jordan was looking for a way out of life, and what better way than to take the blame for his baby brothers crimes? The guy was smart, Elliot had given him that. Jordan knew they had no physical evidence to go on. They only had eye witness testimonies and what Brent had told them. And of course Jordan looked almost identically like his brother despite the age difference.

It was just one of those cases.

Elliot and Olivia, full of the good cop intentions, couldn't let it go. So they went behind their captains back and tailed the guy. They followed him for a few hours every day, watching for any change in his usual routine. The last time Elliot saw him was the day he hit him in the face.

Son of a bitch caught Olivia on the subway and purposely blocked Elliot from the doors. By the time Elliot ran code across town, he found Olivia safely sitting with Brent in a coffee shop just outside of the subway. Elliot had grabbed the guy by his collar and nearly broke his hand on his face.

After Olivia had pulled him off, she explained that Brent knew they were on him and that he wanted to talk to her -alone. Elliot didn't take anything though. He arrested the son of a bitch for attempting to kidnap his partner.

Of course, the charge got thrown out within in an hour, but as Elliot put it...it was the thought that counted.

"I think I've figured it out." the sound of Brent's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "You two have been in this situation before."

Elliot swallowed hard. He wasn't going to give this guy anything.

"You're right." Apparently though, his partner was.

"Liv-"

"Elliot, don't even."

She didn't know what he was going to say. He wondered whose side she was on. She had a fucking gun to her head, yet she was busy making friends with the guy.

"Olivia, stop being so fucking friendly with him. He has a gun to your head." He decided to hell with it and spoke his mind. Seemed everyone else was.

"El-"

"Stabler, if she isn't friendly, I'll blow that pretty little head off."

"You said you were going to do it the second I walked in here." He glanced at his watch. "It's been twenty minutes."

"You better watch it, I'm in charge here."

Elliot laughed then. Like hell he was in charge.

"Westly, in the four months I've known you, you've never followed through with any of your threats."

"Fuck you."

"Well if you're going to do it, then get it over with."

"Elliot!"

"What, Liv? It's not like you haven't fucking given up yourself. Why the hell should I fight for you?"

"I don't want you to fight." her eyes met his. "Take the shot."

"Westly, pull the fucking trigger already."

He couldn't believe he was asking him to do it, but fuck him for putting him through this. He was ready for a change and he was stupid if he thought Westly would actually pull the trigger.

"You've never followed through with anything. You dropped out of school, you failed at your job. You couldn't keep a girlfriend because you were attracted to little girls-"

"El-"

"You won't pull that trigger."

"You want to fucking test me?"

Elliot stepped forward and with his gun trained on the part of Westly he could see, he looked for an answer from Olivia as to where to go next. What he got instead, surprised him, and he nearly choked. Her eyes widened, and her ghost expression told him that he had -once again- made a terrible mistake with Brent Motens Westly.

Because the next thing that happened nearly killed him. He watched as Westly squeezed the trigger, and Elliot lunged forward.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, I'm really sorry for the wait here guys. I had exams and then I didn't have any inspiration. I managed to update my other two on going stories, and this one I sort of just held off because I wasn't sure on the angle. Remember, this one is totally off the top of my head. No real preperation involved. But if you must know, it's also my favorite one to write so far:)

I have to admit though, that this chapter is a bit decieving. I'm an angsty person...I like writing really angsty angst annnnd although this is angsty it's not quite as angsty as the following chapters will be. So I'm sorry for that...but this chapter is really quite EO like.

Sadly, I'm afraid to tell you all that due to my lack of updates hostages have been taken...and the first two to be held were EO. I'm not sure who else was taken, but I'm sure I'll find out soon. I'll do my best to get them back though ;D

* * *

><p>3<p>

His momentum pushed him in between Brent and Olivia, separating the two and causing them both to fall to the ground. He never noticed the lack of gunfire though as he regained his balance and holstered his own weapon, his heart beating despite the fact that he was no longer breathing. He immediately fell to his knees next to Olivia who was struggling to sit up.

"Oh, God." His eyes swept her entire figure, looking for anything out of the ordinary. "He-"

"El, cuff him!"

"What?"

But Olivia was faster. She jumped out of her kneeling position and pulled her secondary from her ankle holster. Brent, who was in the process of reaching toward his own gun, mumbled a line of curse words before surrendering his hands over the top of his head.

"Give it up!"

"I am, fuck -I'm _done_!" he emphasized as he noticed Elliot's figure along side of Olivia, his Glock pulled on him once again.

The detective glared at the man lying motionless with fear on the ground, and his eyes glazed over with his body radiating the heat building within him. He was trying to figure out why he hadn't pulled his own trigger and Brent had. He was tempted to take his own shot now, despite the fact there was no longer a threat. The mother fucker didn't deserve to live anyway.

After a nudge from his partner, Elliot had holstered his weapon and was about to pull his handcuffs from his back pocket as a team of uniforms rushed the room, a few swat members behind them. Sergeant Brown, swat commander and organizer of this entire sting, started barking orders and Elliot took the opportunity to pull Olivia out of the room.

"El, what-"

He didn't answer her though. His left hand, which had began to shake uncontrollably along with the rest of his figure, had a rough hold on her arm as he practically dragged her through the dimly lit hallway of the empty apartment building. Once at the end of the hallway, he spun on her and started to fully check every inch of her for injury.

"El-"

"He pulled that trigger, Liv." his voice was low and his body shook with the adrenalin and fear of losing her. His hands ran the length of her, and he forgot about modesty as he urgently assured himself that she wasn't hurt. "He-"

"It misfired-"

He cut her off, shaking his head again. "I saw him pull the fucking trigger!" He moved his hands back up to her shoulder and he tried to hold himself steady. His entire body was vibrating and the lump in his throat told him he was on the verge of breaking down, of crying, in front of his partner.

"Elliot," Olivia spoke calmly, and she took hold of his hands, pushing them off of her. "I'm fine."

He swallowed hard before nodding curtly. Once his hands were free he dropped them to his sides, his left one slipping into his pocket. He breathed in deeply as he willed himself to relax. He felt his heart going a mile a minute and he thought for sure the entire world could hear it.

Olivia leaned into the wall of the hallway as she sighed. "Calm down, El-"

"Don't!" he snapped at his partner, his voice coming across far more aggressive than he intended. "I can't just chill out here. I egged the guy on and he-"

"He didn't-"

"He did!" His voice interrupted again, and his eyes flashed a deep shade of grey as he glared at her. She was going to try and deny it, but they were both in the room. He had asked Westly to pull the trigger, and the son of a bitch had. He pulled the trigger. On his partner. On Olivia.

He nearly lost her today.

She only held his gaze for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak but instead just shook her head. She groaned as she pushed herself off of the wall and brushed passed him, pulling her earpiece out in the process.

"Liv-" he was right behind her.

"Talk to me when your head is clear, Stabler."

The fact that she resulted to a last name basis caused the bubbling veins within him to boil. He reached forward and roughly grabbed her shoulder, spinning him back to her as he pushed her sideways and into the wall. "Sorry, _Benson," _he emphasized her name before stepping forward, and his hands took hold of both sides of her head. "Just let me-" he paused as his hand ran lightly across the steadily forming bruise. "That's gotta hurt," he said softly.

"It doesn't feel great," she mocked.

He stood there, in the middle of the hallway that was slowly filling with more uniforms as he inspected the darkening skin. He wanted to be sick...he could have prevented this. He was a good shot, he could have taken him out before he ever hurt her...but it was just too risky. He couldn't stand the thought of-

He couldn't lose her.

His heart started to skip beats as his eyes softened. He watched as her head fell back into the wall as she let her eyes drift shut and his face grew wide with a knowing smile. He let his mind openly think about Olivia as more than a partner, and for the first time, he was completely convinced that she felt the same.

"I get it now," he told her as he suddenly pulled her into him, his arms wrapping around her shoulders possessively. He pressed his face into the gentle locks of hair that had fallen around her shoulders as he breathed her in.

"What?" her voice was muffled by his jacket.

For a moment he was completely caught off guard by the way she had immediately wrapped her arms around his midsection. Her face was hidden beneath the sides of his jacket and he could feel her breathing against his chest.

"I know why you couldn't take the shot back then," he clarified. "I'm sorry I expected you to." His tone was soft and unusually quite, but he knew she had heard him. He rested his head in the crest between her neck and shoulder blade and simply soaked her in. "I'm sorry…" his voice trailed off. He wasn't sure what else to say, and the fact that Olivia was so close to him right now was causing his head to spin.

He felt intoxicated. He's never been this close to her before.

He held her tighter as he felt her starting to pull away from him. He could feel her shaking her head against him.

"You should have-"

"Don't even go there," he practically growled as he tightened his arms around her. There was no way he was going to be responsible for her death. How could she expect him to? He was finally understanding that day years ago, and he wanted to kick himself for not figuring it out sooner. He had told her to take the shot, and later when he practically blamed her, she had accused him of expecting her to do such a thing. Yet here they were now, only the tables had turned.

"So we've figured one thing out," he told her as he pulled back from the embrace. "We both-"

"Detectives!" Sergeant Brown called from farther down the hallway, and Elliot awkwardly stepped back, his hands dropping from her shoulders.

The sergeant motioned for them to meet him at the entrance to the building and Olivia started to move away.

"Liv, wait-"

"Later, Elliot." She glanced behind her as she headed down the dark corridor. "We'll talk later."

He wanted to protest, but sighed and instead followed her down the hallway. He knew they needed to get everything cleared up with the Captain and answer any questions they might have, but he wasn't exactly looking forward to it. He knew they could hear what Olivia had said back in the room with Brent, and although the negotiation team and fellow officers may not question it, he knew Cragen would.

He prayed that he wasn't listening, but he specifically remembered his captain putting on a headset before Elliot had left the swat truck.

And despite his fears, he knew it would all work out. He and Olivia were used to the accusations as they regularly had to explain their partnership/friendship/family type relationship to outsiders. He remembered the time Cragen had found out that Elliot was Olivia's emergency contact, and after the stern questions and accusations that they were too close to each other, Cragen had settled for Elliot's explanation.

_She has no one else…_

Elliot was ready to get the statements done and over with. He had already decided he would take the paperwork with him and work on it another time. Because as soon as he was finished with the Q and A, he would seek out to find Olivia, who was probably going to bolt the second she was cleared to leave. And he would ask her just how much he was worth.


End file.
